


A poem (don't laugh): undiscovered

by kedgeree



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Poetry, Wits on Tap 2015, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedgeree/pseuds/kedgeree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Wits on Tap 2015 poetry remix challenge, a remix (or actually more of an echo) of doctornerdington's "One year of text messages: sent, not received"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A poem (don't laugh): undiscovered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctornerdington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornerdington/gifts).
  * Inspired by [One year of text messages: sent, not received](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366627) by [doctornerdington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornerdington/pseuds/doctornerdington). 



Sussex. January 2029. A box, ready to be unpacked in new the library. A ragged-bound book. An envelope just visible between the pages: _To Sherlock, for after_.

* * *

 

_November 11, 2027_

  
Sherlock, I cannot do this.  
How can I go  
Wherever I'm going  
Without you?

You'll laugh, I know.  
Poetry, me to you.  
Would you laugh, you arse,  
At a dying man?  
If anyone would…  
(And still I adore you.)

How fanciful I've grown, wasting.  
Soon you will not know me  
At all.  
But remember  
This is not my whole heart  
On paper. Just a smear of red.  
(You like those.)  
It will fade in time.

Will you rain salt by my grave  
Place the tears and the flowers just so  
As I did by yours?  
As if they mattered to you?  
I don't want your fucking flowers.  
(I do. I'm sorry. I do.)  
(We hurt each other.)

Just remember  
The thing about flowers—

My hands are shaking  
Like yours the first time  
(Well, you remember.)  
And you said I'm good.  
Wrong.

I hurt you still, see:  
Here is the bullet, but  
I will make you watch  
Me wither, selfish just so  
I can see you again  
And again to be sure  
I remember

I am so afraid.

Please  
God, let me live  
Please  
Please  
Oh, please

I want  
always  
your long clumsy-tender hands  
and music soaring  
crashing  
running  
blood song  
and salt  
inside each other  
you and me  
locked together  
One  
You and I  
run and fight  
and laugh and fuck  
And fuck

And fuck

Fuck.

So.  
The thing about flowers—  
You'll laugh, I know.  
We don't speak of such things,  
You and I  
The thing about flowers:  
They turn towards the sun  
(And that's you.)

No, listen, you arse.  
I love your arse.  
Shut up. I'm not dead yet.  
Now you're breaking my rhythm  
Stop distracting me  
And listen.  
(This is the poetry part.)

You, the sun, and me, the ground  
Sentiment in sediment grows  
Roots and blades and flowers  
From worms and mud and stones  
With the seeds you planted  
In my mouth full of salt  
And my back on hot bricks  
Warmed by the sun  
And it rains, spring again  
With flowers  
And kisses like petals  
Scattered under blue eyes  
And the sun plunges into  
The darkness and rises  
Again and again  
To dazzle the earth  
That pours forth flowers  
That turn towards the sun  
And adore.  
Do you see?  
You and me  
That's what we do.  
That's what we are.

Be brilliant, my star,  
Burn and shine,  
Be happy, be touched,  
Lick cream from your fingers,  
Drink tea from my cup.  
I need you to be  
And remember

What I'm trying to say  
With my shaking hands  
Because I should have told you  
Every day the sun rose:  
You are loved  
You are loved  
You are loved

Beyond reason.  
I will take part of you  
With me (it's mine)  
and I will leave winter  
Far behind so I can find you  
Again in the spring  
With flowers  
(Sentiment, don't laugh)

My reasonable man.  
I will find you again  
I know it  
I know it  
I know it  
And give you back  
My piece of your heart.

You think I won't do it  
Can't do it  
Impossible!  
And that's reasonable.  
But remember  
You are impossible  
And I did you.  
(Did you laugh?  
Please laugh.  
You look so sad these days.)

 

_Yours,  
John_


End file.
